A Veiled Dance
by Shakespira
Summary: **NSFW** A one shot in which Leonie teaches Loghain the Dance of The Stolen Veil. Rated M for naughtiness. Companion to Chapter 4 of "The Lion's Den"


**A Veiled Dance**

_Come to my room in one hour. It is time for the dance lesson._

Leonie smiled as she slipped the note under Loghain's door. Simple and to the point. She knew he would be there. He has mentioned the dance on several occasions but there had never been a time when they were alone long enough to demonstrate it.

The Dance of the Stolen Veil. The dance courtesans of the Imperial Court of Orlais had been performing for the nobles for hundreds of years, always in the privacy of boudoirs and bedrooms. She learned it during her time at court, when Celene decided she wished to know it. They had giggled and practiced and finally learned the steps and the art of the dance. Leonie smiled again, running her hand along the silk veils. She wondered how Loghain would react. The thought widened her smile and she began to shrug out of her clothes.

* * *

Loghain felt a nervous anticipation as he waited for a very long hour to pass. He was still adjusting to the passion between them. His time with Rowan had been too short to appreciate the intensity of his desire for her; he had not considered himself to be a passionate man. Celia had been affectionate but not passionate and there had always been a gentle constraint in their time together. After she had died, he had thought that was the end of it, that part of his life was over and he put his energies into duty instead, only occasionally succumbing to his own baser needs with his own hand providing release.

Leonie had changed all of that. She was a lioness, all passion and heat and he had discovered he was as well, that with her he could indulge in the passion that had been locked away for so many years. It was unsettling at times, to so completely let go of his control, but she sparked a fire within him that was fueled by each touch, each glance. Even now, as he made his way to her room, he felt the heated weight of his arousal.

She greeted him with a slow, deep kiss that sent blood rushing through him but before he could pull her closer, she was spinning away from him, long silk veils flowing around her. He quietly locked the door, his heartbeat quickening. With languid, sinuous movements, her arms were beckoning him onward and he obeyed.

Her hips were swaying, undulating to the rhythm of music he couldn't hear, but seemed to feel. Her arms were flowing in graceful waves, like water. She removed a blue veil, holding it lightly above her as she spun slowly toward him and then he felt the sensuous caress of silk on his skin.

"I am blue. I am trust, I am water," she whispered against his ear. His breath was slowing, catching in his throat. "As water flows, trusting in its course, so too our bodies flow together, trusting in the other to bring it along the course to completion." She _was _water, flowing along him, her body soft and fluid, her fingers caressing him in long, elegant strokes. Without quite realizing how, his shirt was off and her hands were now running, flowing along his chest, his torso, his back. He growled, his want turning urgent in his blood but she was already dancing away with languorous and lithe grace.

Once more her hips were moving, swiveling in slow, teasing circles, her arms moving along her own body. Loghain's heart seemed to stop and then leap in his chest as his blood thickened. He wanted to touch her, to touch himself, to relieve the ache that was growing unbearable.

"I am ivory. I am unity, I am the union of a man and woman. As a sword is to a sheath, so a man is to a woman," she whispered into his ear, a flick of tongue, a sharp nip of his lobe that had his breath hissing out of him in a long hot demand but she was behind him now. She wrapped an arm around his waist, the other lower, caressing his manhood through his trousers as her body pressed lightly against his, he could feel the silk of the veil skimming along his skin, felt the soft suppleness of her breasts through the thin fabric, lightly pressing into his back. And with another sweep of hands, his trousers and smalls were gone and he was finding his breath held again as silk and fingers traveled the length of his engorged, heated flesh.

Her hips were moving once again in seductive circles and her hands were moving in intricate arcs through the air; she was moving away again. Her head was back, eyes closed and he wanted to reach out and pull her close, feel her mouth on his, let his hands mold to the curve of waist and hip. She opened her eyes, met his in a smoldering exchange before she removed another veil.

"I am yellow. I am joy. I am warmth. I am the joy a woman's heart feels as a man touches her, the warmth that she feels when a man enters her," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. She wrapped a leg around his as the veil fluttered in the air around them, seemed to envelope them. Her tongue was warm against his chest as it made long, curving trails along his skin. His hips thrust involuntarily, his hands moving on their own accord to pull at her but she was spinning away, the yellow veil sailing behind her as she moved. His groan was low and full of need.

He was mesmerized by the hypnotic rolling of her hips, the delicate steps her bare feet took, the grace of her arms, the heat of her gaze. He licked his suddenly dry lips as she bent and swayed. Wanton, her hips rolling with abandon, her hands lingering on her breasts, she looked at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"I am crimson. I am the flame. I am the fire that burns deep, dancing hotly within," she whispered, the crimson veil floating in the air between them and she was there suddenly, kneeling, her hands stretching up to stroke his torso as her mouth, hot and sweet, took his throbbing length into it, tongue just as hot swirling with that same grace along its head. Another involuntary thrust as she pulled him deeper into her mouth, her hands continued to stroke along his heated skin.

Gone again, standing before him, swaying gently with the grace of a tree swaying in the wind. He wanted her, needed to feel her beneath him, feel her legs wrapped around him. It was no longer just a desire, it was hot lust pounding through his blood, his control skittering away from him. His groan turned into a growl. His erection was pulsing in its need of release and he clenched his hands to keep from complying with its fevered request.

She wore only one veil now, most of her body revealed to him. The supple curves of her breasts with their rosy nipples hard, begging for his teeth to graze against them. The soft warmth of her hips, where his fingers needed to curl into their pliant flesh as she writhed under him. He watched, his breath caught in his throat, as her fingers trailed along her body, touching her breasts, moving in sensuous sweeps along her belly, to tease herself, dipping a finger into her wetness and bringing to her lips, sucking on it, her eyes on his the entire time. He couldn't seem to breathe in that moment. His erection was pulsing with need and he clenched his hands into fists to keep from stroking it.

With the sinuous grace of a cat, she stretched to her full height, bending back at the waist, arms at her sides, moving in slow circles as she stood slowly and moved closer to him, hips now thrusting as she neared him. He could feel her heat, smell her arousal, hear her quickened breath, see the desire flaming in her blue eyes but she was just out of reach. She was dipping and swaying, just beyond him as the red veil rode the currents of air between them. She dipped her finger into herself again and he heard the quick intake of breath as she slid it out and then she was so tantalizing close as she let that same finger brush along his lips. He pulled it into his mouth, sucking the sweet musk from her finger and then she was spinning away, the veil trailing across his skin. He reached out, any control he had now gone. He caught the veil and pulled it from her creamy skin.

"I am red. I am passion. I am blood. I am a woman's heart. You have stolen my veil, and with it, my heart," she whispered moving into his arms, the red silk veil brushing between them.

Loghain lifted her, could feel the wet heat of her as he did. Her lips were warm and soft against his and he opened his mouth, long past soft and warm, as his tongue plunged into her mouth. He moved to the bed and lowered her onto it and then he was above her, kneeling between her thighs, his mouth moving with sharp nips along the silken skin of her neck.

She was matching his heat with her own as he pulled one of her long legs up. She let it rest on his shoulder as she arched her hips toward him, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. He shuddered, stilled as his release was so close. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want her to fear him. He wanted her to find her release. He wanted to bury himself into her heat. Her eyes met his again.

"Harder," she whispered only and it was all he needed. His hand gripped the leg resting on his shoulder as he bit into the sensitive skin above her ankle. Her fingers were digging deeper into his flesh and he could feel his skin stinging as his flesh was broken and it only sent him closer to the edge.

He withdrew and thrust into her again, his growl low and deep, primitive. She arched her back, shifted. She was hot and tight, wrapping around his arousal, milking it with her inner muscles, tightening and relaxing as he continued to thrust into her. He could feel the end screaming at his blood, at his mind. Her hands were moving again, grazing his nipple, teasing it as her hips continued to dance against his.

She cried out, a long moan of pleasure that ended with his name and it pulled at Loghain's own release. He felt the gathering coil of it tremble through him as he grunted, each thrust into her met with the quivering muscles of her orgasm and then he was crying out, a low primal sound that grew as his release shuddered through him, seemed to go on and on. He collapsed on her, spent and still shuddering and she wrapped her arms around him, content to bear his weight.

They lay in silence for some time, her fingers sifting idly through his hair, as their breathing slowed and steadied. His lips found the curve between her neck and shoulder and she shivered at his touch. "Do not start something you cannot finish," she whispered, voice a wanton invitation as her leg rubbed along his own.

He rolled over onto his back, bringing her with him, could already feel himself becoming hard again as she bent to drop light, wet kisses along his neck. He raised his chin to allow her better access.

"I can finish it, given the right persuasion," he said with a smirk.


End file.
